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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343198">for whom the strap tolls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear'>Dandybear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Competent Lesbian Mom Carol Danvers, Completely serious crackfic, Double Penetration, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is Queer, F/F, F/M, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov is So Done, Non-Binary Vision, Pegging, Romantic Friendship, Rubs My Queer Little Hands All Over Disney's Property, Strap-Ons, i take a hammer and i fix the canon, leaked sex tapes, smoking weed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:55:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I apologize for the timing of this call. I understand it’s still quite early on the Eastern seaboard.”<br/>“Mmmbyes.”<br/>“Right, right, didn't mean to wake you. But, there's some pressing news. A bit of an oopsie I’m afraid. Wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent. This might go to press tomorrow.”<br/>“Whazzit?”<br/>“Well, you see it’s video footage of an intimate nature,” this is what wakes her brain up, “...explains the outfit really. Gotta say, looks really strapped in and ready for danger.”<br/>This is what her brain retains: “There’s a strap-on footage of an Avenger."</p><p>Natasha investigates the case of the naughty avenger tape and instead has a terrible week of TMI.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff/Vision</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>for whom the strap tolls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is very silly. Largely inspired by what I consider to be a criminal lack of strap related play and pegging in Avengers fic. I realized I had strap related headcanons for like ... every pairing. So, here's the compiled version.</p><p>Vision is a he/they lesbian and also an Android with customizable parts. I'm sorry that my brain is so much bigger and more creative than any Marvel creative staff who are like, "Nooo he's robot and he's just a cis man!" BAH.</p><p>There's a lot of cursed mental images in this story and I am both sorry and not sorry for subjecting you to it. But, there's also important sex education about the importance of sex toys. Don't forget to keep yours clean, and using compatible condoms saves time on keeping them safe for multiple uses!</p><p>I Do Not Vibe With Timelines or Continuity so this is an AU that is like, roughly post-Endgame, but not because everyone is alive and fine and Steve is just old? The Best Timeline.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since when is she their PR liaison?</p><p>Since when do they have a PR liaison?</p><p>It must have been some kind of half-baked idea given a full-baked execution by an AI with no understanding of irony, because it is FRIDAY waking her up at 5:30 in the morning to say:</p><p>“Ms. Romanoff, the publicity agency representing the Avengers is on the phone.”</p><p>And it is FRIDAY who takes her confused mumbling for: <em>“I’d love to speak to whoever this is.”</em></p><p>“Ms. Romanoff,” she can hear the wince of the British man on the other side of the phone. She imagines he’s calling her from a London sky scraper. The kind overlooking the Thames and the Eye. </p><p>“Mmmblargh,” says Natasha.</p><p>“I apologize for the timing of this call. I understand it’s still quite early on the Eastern seaboard.”</p><p>“Mmmbyes.”</p><p>“Right, right, didn't mean to wake you. But, there's some pressing news. A bit of an oopsie I’m afraid. Wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent. This might go to press tomorrow.”</p><p>“Whazzit?”</p><p>“Well, you see it’s video footage of an intimate nature,” this is what wakes her brain up, “...explains the outfit really. Gotta say, looks really <em> strapped in </em>and ready for danger.”</p><p>This is what her brain retains: “There’s a strap-on porn of an Avenger?”</p><p>“Ah well, I wouldn’t call it a pornography--”</p><p>“And you pulled it?”</p><p>“Yes, well, Mr. Stark has an account for paying off anything of such matters that might surface.”</p><p>“But it might air today?” she sits up, rubbing her eyes.</p><p>“Just a precaution. You know, we paid off the tabloid, but they’ve likely kept leakable copies for social media.”</p><p>“Then get the copies destroyed. What are we paying you for? Why are you even calling before you’ve gathered and destroyed every copy?” it’s shitty spycraft and she’s not going to stand for it.</p><p>“Ah, well, just wanted to have full transparency in this partnership.”</p><p>“The only transparency I want is your assurance that whatever it is has been wiped from the face of the earth in the next twenty-four hours or we’re finding a new agency to represent our interests. Am I being clear?”</p><p>He gulps, “Yes, Ma’am.”</p><p>“And your name is?”</p><p>“N-Nelson Frink.”</p><p>“That’s a terrible name, Nelson.”</p><p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p><p>Satisfied, she hangs up and flops back into bed. She really needs to stop staying at the Avengers HQ between jobs. This would probably happen less often.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It compels her though.</p><p>She makes it a habit to know everyone’s business, and it was a lot easier when there was only like, six of them. Even then, she has no idea what Thor does. Now there’s like fifteen people treating Avengers HQ like a communal fridge, so it could be anybody.</p><p>Her mind does go one place first.</p><p>She needs to stop forgetting that Carol is a sixty-something military lesbian so it stops slapping her in the face any time she sees the woman outside of uniform. She’s dressed like a Home Depot dad, complete with carabiner and multitool strapped to her belt.</p><p>Strapped, right.</p><p>“Hey,” Nat folds her arms over her own hoodie and pajamas.</p><p>“What kind of message is: urgent but not emergency?”</p><p>“Why do you still own a Nokia phone?”</p><p>“Secure. Durable. Gets the job done.”</p><p>Nat rubs her temples.</p><p>“That bulb is burned out,” Carol nods above them.</p><p>“Yeah, I guess so. I think the handyman handles that sort of thing.”</p><p>“Ridiculous. Stark couldn’t wipe his ass without a robot to do it for him,” Carol brushes past her and begins digging through closets.</p><p>“So, um, there’s no not-awkward way to phrase this…” Nat broaches the subject.</p><p>Carol holds a fresh light bulb aloft in triumph, “These are the energy saving LEDs we use for the garage.”</p><p>“Awesome. Now we know how many Avengers it takes to change a light bulb,” Nat sighs, “Do you think that a sex tape of you using a strap-on might exist?”</p><p>This is what gets Carol to pause mid-air to glance at her.</p><p>“I’m assuming this is apropos of something.”</p><p>“Yeah, the uh, PR firm called this morning to tell me that they intercepted something frisky starring an Avenger and a strap-on.”</p><p>“Did you ask who it was?”</p><p>“...No. That’s why I’m asking you.”</p><p>Carol blinks at her, “Unless the press are hounding my private property to place a telephoto lens into my bedroom, I don’t think it’s video of me and Maria.”</p><p>“Okay, cool. Just thought I’d get that out of the way because uh… strap, and <em> avenger </em> so my brain went--”</p><p>“Yeah. I get it,” Carol floats into the kitchen to wash her hands, “The cupboards need WD40, by the way. For a bunker, this place has a kitchen twenty years out of date. My wife would be disgusted.”</p><p>“I’ll be sure to let Tony know.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>One out of the way. Once the sun is higher she targets her next potential culprit.</p><p>“Oh, probably. I mean, I can’t remember half of the early aughts, and the half I can remember is pretty kinky,” Tony says.</p><p>He’s got that manic distracted tone of voice that means she’s like, the third thing he’s paying attention to right now.</p><p>“Anything in London that would just surface now?”</p><p>“Like I said, could be anything,” Tony says, “There was that one girl I was seeing. Something… seasonal. Summer?”</p><p>“Autumn,” Pepper supplies, entering the call, “Nelson got in touch with me as well. He was a little subdued, I’m assuming that’s your doing, Nat.”</p><p>“He called me at 5:30, so he got the scary hitman voice.”</p><p>“Hitwoman, please, we’re reclaiming that word,” Pepper says in a way that might be a joke.</p><p>Nat rolls her lips anyway, “So, you’re taking responsibility, Tony?”</p><p>“Yeah, put it on me. If there’s no one else fessing up. Makes me look cool, anyway.”</p><p>“Mmhm,” Nat says with some skepticism.</p><p>“I mean, any many who isn’t getting pegged is missing out. The g-spot’s in the ass for a reason. Frankly, I’m a little surprised that someone in your … arrangement would have such judgments about consensual prostate simulation, Natasha.”</p><p>Pepper has pursed lips, pink cheeks, and a hands-on-hips pose that says everything about her own feelings on pegging. Oh God.</p><p>Natasha bursts out laughing, “Tony, I was ‘mmhm’-ing you looking cool, not whatever it is you were getting done to you in 2002. Or,” she fires a look at Pepper, “Last night.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That really should have been the end of it.</p><p>“Could be us, Darling, ‘75?” Peggy looks up from her newspaper to gratefully accept the cup of tea with shaking hands.</p><p>It’s Sunday, which means she’s having tea with the Carters. Their adorable little Brooklyn walk-up is a combination of old and new. The decor makes her feel like she’s in an English tea shop, but they have a Smart Kitchen(notably <em> not </em>Stark Industries), and one of those chairs that literally drives you up the fucking wall. Older Steve spends his days teaching water colours down at the community centre, and Peggy pretends to not still be consulting the Pentagon via Blackberry while she stirs her Earl Grey. It’s a nice standing invitation she has. Afternoon tea. Tea she tries not to spray as Biden-faced Steve nods, “You, know, you might be right.”</p><p>“Seventy-five?” she asks, wanting to know, but also not wanting to know. It’s Steve, so she’s used to sticking her nose into his sex life, but he’s old now, so it’s weird.</p><p>“Yes! We were giving The,” Peggy drops her voice, “<em> Playboy Mansion </em> a visit. Very exciting. Darling, there was a camera rolling wasn’t there?”</p><p>Steve nods.</p><p>This is the best and worst day of Natasha’s life.</p><p>Steve looks at Nat. A younger Steve might be screaming through those eyes, but he’s old now, so there’s just this embarrassed amusement instead.</p><p>“I think so. Hugh wouldn’t have sold that reel though.”</p><p>“He did pass recently. Might have changed hands,” Steve winces as he sits down. Peggy pats his thigh. </p><p>“I think that would’ve made a bigger PR splash. ‘We’ve unearthed a vintage sex tape of Captain America with an unnamed brunette bombshell’, would be part of the headline, not the by-line,” Natasha says.</p><p>Peggy brightens at the description, still lovely with her dark eyes and white curls, “Oh, thank you, Dear,” she gives an exaggerated wink.</p><p>“Don’t mention it,” Nat winces and reaches for a scone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’s literally just trying to upgrade her Motorrad in the peace of Tony’s football field sized garage. She hears the breath and footsteps from half a mile away, but it still manages to catch her off guard.</p><p>Bruce’s voice is sheepish, “Hey Nat.”</p><p>She almost hits her head on the tool shelf as she emerges from behind her bike, “Dr. Banner.”</p><p>She’s not actually trying to hit him with the blast of frosty professionalism, but she’d be lying if she didn’t enjoy constantly keeping him on his toes.</p><p>“Hey, uh, yeah, I heard from Tony that there was a bit of a situation with some naughty pictures,” he laughs.</p><p>She hums in assent, wiping the oil off her hands, “Yeah, well they didn’t say anything about hulking proportions so I think you’re safe, Bruce.”</p><p>He laughs again and rubs the back of his neck, “About that. I’ve been experimenting on ways to uh, get intimate without getting too excited and, you know, unleashing the beast.”</p><p>She sips water, nodding minutely as she does.</p><p>“Problem is--or, not a problem, it’s not a problem and it happens to lots of guys. Girls too!”</p><p>“Bruce.”</p><p>“It keeps me soft. Which means I’ve been exploring other ways to experience intimacy. And, it turns out there are a lot of women who are into that. I’ve actually tried using the strap-on myself and found it fun. You get to adjust sizes and that’s not something I’m used to.”</p><p>“So, you’re telling me the Avenger sex tape might be you?”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t think any of the women I’ve been with are the type to film the encounter, but it’s not every day you give the Hulk….”</p><p>“The strap?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>She blows out a breath through puffed cheeks, “Sure isn’t.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s a Pandora’s box. One she never should have opened. She wants off this ride now.</p><p>Well, not the present ride. Clint adjusts his position to get better leverage with his knees. He’s getting old and she’s about to make a biting comment about it, but the change in angle adjusts Laura’s spot in her ass and all coherent thought disappears on a surprise orgasm.</p><p>Her hair is brushed behind her ear by blunt nails, and a kiss is pressed to her temple. She’s collapsed onto Clint’s chest. The soft hair there tickles her cheek. </p><p>“Do you ever think it could be the three of us on that tape?” Clint asks.</p><p>Laura laughs against Natasha’s hair, “Jeez, you two maybe. Unless it’s some hacked nanny cam footage.”</p><p>“See, I was thinking of the vacation in Barcelona,” Clint says.</p><p>Nat grumbles, “It doesn’t matter. Video’s been destroyed. Our reputations are safe.”</p><p>It <em> does matter </em>though. Every twist and turn in this story has kept her mind from resting. Tony was so willing to fall on his sword, and yet, it could be any of them.</p><p>Except probably Carol.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s been a week and a half of not being able to look half the team in the eye when Rhodey sits a little too close on the couch. She’s minding her own business, trying to watch Antique Roadshow and drink a beer. </p><p>He keeps smoothing and un-smoothing a suede throw pillow and if he says anything she’s going to stab him with one of the glass chess pieces still out from Vision and Sam being boring.</p><p>“Heard you’ve been asking people about their sex lives all week,” he says, moving the pouf table with his foot as if he can read her mind.</p><p>“More like I have not known peace since I brought it up to Tony. Suddenly everyone is chummy enough to regale me with their sex lives.”</p><p>She dares a glance in his direction. The late afternoon sun is illuminating the highlights of his cheeks. He really is pretty. No one ever says it out loud, but Rhodey’s pretty. He has those soulful eyes and smooth cheeks. Plus, he’s a hard guy to be mad at. Even when he’s being an asshole. He’s not like Tony. Much harder to hit.</p><p>“I don’t envy you there,” he says diplomatically, “Anything good?”</p><p>She shrugs, “Nothing surprising. Not like rescuing Vision and Wanda from that Japanese hotel.”</p><p>“I don’t know that one,” he makes a face.</p><p>As if summoned, Vision drifts into the kitchen. Nat’s pretty sure they’re in some kind of escalating fashion cold war with Carol to see who can be the most lesbian looking team member.</p><p>“Cat ears were involved,” Nat says with the corner of her mouth.</p><p>Vision starts moving pots and pans around in a way that is usually so irritating when she’s watching TV.</p><p>Rhodey, to his credit, keeps an even expression, “Wasn’t expecting that from Wanda.”</p><p>“She wasn’t the one wearing them.”</p><p>He rocks his head side to side, “Okay.”</p><p>“Now you know how I feel learning about everyone’s strap-on experiences.”</p><p>“Well, they’re a great tool. Especially for partial paralysis.”</p><p>Natasha tosses the remote as she gets up. </p><p>Vision’s waiting with a homemade popsicle peace offering (raspberry lemonade, Wanda's favourite) as she storms through the kitchen. She takes it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s not that she <em> actively dislikes </em>Vision. She likes to consider herself Vision-neutral. Vision's like a weird cat. She doesn't know why he's always around, or in the kitchen, or sometimes just in rest mode by the wall. Like they’re in the fucking Blair Witch or something. Maybe it's the English accent, or the forehead powered by a godlike force, but there's something so irritatingly smug about him. </p><p>Even without all of that, the odds have never been in his favour. </p><p>See, Natasha loves Wanda. She loves Wanda with as many layers as a tiramisu. There's the shared life experience of being Slavic broads with shitty childhoods who grew up to be the first girls on the superhero team. There's the time spent living in close quarters. Hiding from Interpol, sharing beds, and sweaters, and hats. Love like best friends or sisters. That intense, female, intimacy that's painting nails and bleaching hair and screaming along to Britney Spears in the car when the boys aren't around. She loves Wanda in a casual, raw way. The way that has her adding an hour to her travel time just to stop in Queens to get donuts from that one Sokovian deli that makes them <em> almost </em> as good as Irina Maximoff. She's always nonchalant when she drops them off on Wanda's bed, just as blase as she is when she accepts the grateful cheek kiss. </p><p>"It was on the way," she always lies. </p><p>(“Sounds like a crush,” Laura’s voice bled through the payphone. Nat’s gloves creaked around it and she felt her cheeks colour from more than cold.</p><p>“I fall in love with everyone a little bit,” she said diplomatically.</p><p>She could hear the curtain of hair brushing the receiver as Laura switched ears, “Yeah, but this is different.”</p><p>“It’s not.”</p><p>“You know, you don’t have to stay locked in with us. You’re still young. You might find that you want--”</p><p>“I’m right where I wanna be. Well, not literally, because I’m outside a Newcastle Gregg’s in winter, but I want to be with you and Clint. The kids….”</p><p>“They miss you too.”</p><p>“Heat’s died down a bit, thought maybe we could rendez-vous for spring break. Somewhere warm?”</p><p>“...I’ve always wanted to see Spain.”)</p><p>But, there's another layer. Because Natasha loves Wanda the way a teacher might love a troubled student just a little harder. Just in case that student ever brings a gun to school. </p><p>She hates that she thinks about it this way. It's poison. Tony's poison, and it's a well she still finds herself drinking from. </p><p>"He treats you like a baby and a bomb," Natasha has complained to Wanda, both of Vision and Tony. </p><p>Wanda always gives her that frosty blink followed by a toothy, "I can handle it."</p><p>"So, did you ever figure it out?" Wanda asks, passing the joint. </p><p>Natasha lets the cells in her eyes make patterns of the ceiling above.</p><p>"I think everyone wants to be the cool kid with the sex tape," she says. </p><p>"This was in London?"</p><p>"I think so. I mean, he was calling from London. I just assumed…. You know, I never asked Strange. I think it’s because my brain refuses to think of him as a sexual being."</p><p>It gets a giggle and a passed joint. The combination of weed and Wanda’s Stoner Ska Spotify playlist is making Nat crave pizza.</p><p>Wanda sits up to put on some oversized sunglasses, "Could be me and Vis. We did a lot of sneaking around when we were living in the UK."</p><p>Natasha turns her head slowly. See, unlike the uninvited insights into the sex lives of a bunch of old men, there’s always been a part of her that has been curious about what exactly the corset goth and the robot get up to in the bedroom.</p><p>"I mean, I wasn’t gonna ask. I just assumed. I mean, if any three guys were gonna design a robot with a dick…." Natasha adds. </p><p>"Vision is more than what they were originally designed to be."</p><p>"You're really gonna make me ask."</p><p>Wanda levels her with a loaded hazel stare. God, she is. Natasha sucks in a toke. This is when Wanda says: "What? If I was the one pounding purple pussy?"</p><p>Smoke goes into Natasha’s sinuses and out of her mouth in sputtering coughs.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>"Fuck me yourself, Coward."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Alright, everybody grab a plate,” Sam announces once the pile of meat is big enough to wobble.</p><p>Nat loves dinner parties like this because she doesn’t have to lift a finger. Her hands are occupied enough. Nate and Lila are doing a great job of giving her gel tips. </p><p>“Come on, let’s get you in line. Kids eat first,” she says, scooping Nate up.</p><p>“You’re gonna mess up your nails!” Lila calls after her.</p><p>“Yeah, and he’s only gonna be pocked sized for another few years. Isn’t that right, Junior?” she asks.</p><p>“Nuh-uh, I’m always gonna be small.”</p><p>“Good, good,” she kisses his head.</p><p>Sam and Bucky are wearing matching “Kiss the Cook/Punch the Cook” aprons and appear to be locked in single tong combat. She follows the directions of his apron by kissing his cheek after letting Nate down to go hog wild on the salad bar.</p><p>“Keep me away from Carol,” he says against her ear.</p><p>“What? Is Danvers giving one of her famous lectures on the importance of purchasing a power washer for home and yard maintenance?” </p><p>“Well, it is the Captain Marvel of window cleaning. No, she won’t stop hinting that I should ‘meet’ her daughter.”</p><p>“Aw, trying to wring grandkids out of you. You should be honoured that you’ve made the candidate list out of everyone here.”</p><p>“Yeah, well I don’t think there are a lot of other options here. I don’t think she wants grandkids looking like Ant Man.”</p><p>“Aw, Scott’s a good dad. And taken.”</p><p>“Right. Like yours truly.”</p><p>“So tell her that the only sunrise for you is on the back of a horse called Bucky.”</p><p>Bucky, who has been half-listening, whinnies just in time for Steve to shuffle up and spill beer on himself.</p><p>“Do I wanna know?” Steve asks with his waxy old face and his collapsed eyelids.</p><p>“They’re in love,” Nat supplies.</p><p>Bruce shoots an awkwardly approving smile-wince as he jumps the line to grab some corn. </p><p>“Ah. Then yes.”</p><p>“Do you need some help getting to your seat, Old Timer?” Nat asks him.</p><p>“Not too old to whoop your ass,” he creaks.</p><p>She bumps him gently, “And over the ‘no hitting a girl’ thing to boot.”</p><p>“My wife once used me as a battering ram. If anything you’re the ones who should be going easy on us.”</p><p>Sam laughs, “That’s one dynamite gal.”</p><p>Carol, who has taken the line opportunity to get close, chimes in with, “Speaking of dynamite gals….”</p><p>Sam motions to Nat for help and that’s her cue to leave. She’s mostly gotten over her pirate code ‘fall behind, get left behind’ ways, still smarting from that time they all abandoned Wanda in a parking lot and the next time she saw her she was shot up with horse tranquilizers and stuffed into weird foam hand covering cuffs. But, when it comes to leaving Sam to the wolves in a conversation, she’s still got to maintain her bastard image.</p><p>She joins Laura at the ‘Mom Table’, greeting her with a beer-flavoured kiss. Pepper has some kind of melon, soda concoction in front of her and is in deep conversation with May Parker. Morgan and Nate are at the kid’s table explaining Paw Patrol to Vision over hypoallergenic snacks.</p><p>“So, it’s early-learning propaganda?” she hears him say.</p><p>“Paw-paganda.”</p><p>“Fascinating.”</p><p>Natasha’s about to lose her mind or her life because she’s just taken a huge bite of bratwurst before hearing this exchange.</p><p>“Breathe through your nose,” Laura says, holding out a water for her to wash it down. Her eyes are streaming.</p><p>“Ah! Yes, Natasha was the one to actually receive the call,” Pepper chimes in.</p><p>May turns her whole body to absorb them with wide brown eyes and Natasha feels her ears colour.</p><p>“Which call is this?” she asks, hoping Pepper will spare her.</p><p>“Oh, you know, the sex tape call,” Pepper swats some bugs away from her kale and quinoa salad.</p><p>“Oh yeah. That call,” Nat says, pretending like it hasn’t haunted her since.</p><p>Laura squeezes her thigh.</p><p>“Did we ever find out what it was before it was destroyed?” she says casually, but she feels the ears of everyone around them prick up.</p><p>Pepper smirks into her glass, “Well, it’s more and less exciting than we thought. Apparently, Thor was in town for Berlin Pride and ended up on some cellphone footage.”</p><p>Nat nods, “Cool.”</p><p>She hopes everyone eavesdropping heard it so the topic can be put to bed.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She should have known better.</p><p>Two other sets of arms are slung over her waist this time when FRIDAY gives her the wonderful wake up call: “Ms. Romanoff, the publicity agency representing the Avengers is on the phone.”</p><p>"I hate it here," she groans.</p><p>"Go bother Tony with this, FRIDAY," Clint adds.</p><p>"Okay."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you liked it.</p><p>Catboy Vision is now burned into your eyes.</p><p>Leave me a comment if you had a good time. Stay safe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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